Where Do Babies Come From?
by Emerald-Leaves
Summary: What started out as a simple question for Italy Veneziano quickly turned into too much information. Human names used.


**Where Do Babies Come From?**

Veneziano sat at the table with his brother, Romano, pushing his pasta on his plate around distractedly instead of eating it. The older Italian looked at his brother in concern, but would never rightly admit to it. "_Chigi_, Feliciano, what's the matter with you? Why won't you eat your pasta?"

The younger brother looked up, eyes actually opened for once, as he stared at his brother, oddly pensive. "_Fratello_, where do babies come from?"

Romano's eyes widened to the size of watermelons before he started chocking on the pasta he had been swallowing. He was sent into a coughing fit for several minutes, Veneziano getting out of his seat to pat his brother's back, not knowing what else to do, before the older Italian was able to calm himself down.

"Ugh, why the hell would you want to know that?" Romano blushed furiously. "Has that great pervert been messing with your head again?"

"No, I haven't talked to big brother France for a while," Veneziano resumed his seat and wondered why his brother was turning so red. Was it still from choking?

The southern half of Italy regarded his brother for a moment, taking in the innocent expression and the general denseness that came from the northern half of the country. He didn't want to talk about this. He _really _didn't want to talk about this. Especially not with Feliciano. But the other was looking at him so expectantly…

The older brother sighed in annoyance. "_Chigi_, why don't you go ask that bastard Spain? I'm sure he could explain it better than me."

"_Ve_~ Really? Okay!" Feliciano leap up from his seat. "_Gratzi _Lovi!"

Romano watched his innocent, stupid little brother bounce away, presumably to find Spain. And while he felt a little bad about what he was doing to Spain, the greater, more selfish part of him was relieved that he wasn't going to be the sucker that had to explain baby making to his younger brother.

**oOoOoOo**

Excitedly, Feliciano took a boat and quickly sailed to Spain. He knew from Romano that Spain was going to be along the coast this weekend, and so decided to pay his big brother a visit. Once he got off the boat, the bubbly Italian made his way through the Spanish street in search of his brother's house. Once it came into view, he smiled before knocking on the door.

Spain answered, looking a bit confused as to why someone was visiting him today, but when his green eyes caught sight of Feliciano, the Spaniard's face split into a happy smile. "Veneziano! Ah, how wonderful to see you! What brings you here? Come in, come in!"

The young Italian beamed up at his big brother before stepping into the house. It was much cooler than the outside, a fact that he was most grateful for. "_Gratzi_!" Feliciano beamed.

"Can I get you something to drink? Maybe you would like some churros, no?" Spain offered, still smiling merrily at the northern Italian.

"Oh, _sí, sí_! I would like that very much! Thank you!" Veneziano beamed, sitting himself down at Spain's kitchen table.

The older nation just continued to smile as he began setting out plates and glasses, preparing to have a snack with his little brother. "So what brings you here today, _amigo_? Ah, did Lovi send you here to tell me something? He is so cute! Always embarrassed to come ask me for something or when he's forgotten something over here…" the Spaniard trailed off, looking like he was in a dream. "Ah, so cute~"

"No," Feliciano said as Spain set a glass of water before the Italian. "I came here to ask you where babies come from."

Spain halted in his tracks, shoulders tensing, his face becoming flush. "Haha, eh, what?"

Veneziano was a little confused by the older man's reaction. Lovino's had been similar, but Feliciano could not understand why they would both got so red in the face. Maybe it was just really hot to them? "_Ve_, I want to know where babies come from!"

The green eyed man laughed again nervously before wringing his hands together, eyes darting left and right as though trying to find a way out. "Haha, w-why would you want to know that?"

Veneziano took a moment to organize his thoughts— for the first time in his life!— before looking at his brother. "Well, I saw a couple yesterday walking down the street with a little baby. It was so cute! And I heard the woman say it took a lot of effort to get it, and I wondered what they had to do to get one."

Antonio's eyes kept darting left to right as his mind was racing, wondering why on earth the Italian had come to him. Why hadn't he gone to Romano for this? "Ah, well, you see," Spain began as he sat down next to the other. "When a couple, a _madre y padre_, love each other very much…um…they plant a garden."

"A garden?" Feliciano cocked his head to the side.

"_S-sí_. A garden. And in that garden they…umm…they plant tomato plants! That's it!" green eyes lit up with excitement as his story began branching out. "And some times, if they love each other enough, their tomato plants, over night, will grow a baby. And the next morning, when they go to tend the garden, they have a baby."

The young Italian's mouth formed a small "o" as he listened intently. That was it? All a couple had to do was plant a garden and love each other and they could have a baby? Granted, gardening could be hard work, but it didn't seem like it was _that _hard. The couple he had heard talking had made it seem like it was tiring, long-labor sort of work.

"Are you sure?" he asked the Spaniard.

Antonio was up from his chair, laughing in a moment. "Of course I am! Now, I'm sorry Feli, but I just remembered that I have an…um…important meeting to get to soon and I need to get ready." He pulled the Italian up and was soon pushing him out the door.

"But—"

"Haha, sorry to cut our visit short, Feliciano, but meetings are important! _Chau, _have a safe trip home!"

And that was it. Feliciano found himself outside of Spain's door, wondering just what exactly his big brother had to do today that was so important. But besides that mystery, Veneziano was left wondering if babies really did come from tomato plants. The little Italian had planted tomato gardens with Lovi for _years _now, and never once had they found a baby. But then again, Antonio said that it had to be a mamma and a papa to plant the garden.

"I know!" Feliciano smiled brightly. "I'll just go asked big brother France! He knows a lot about love, maybe he knows about babies too!"

And so the little Italian found his way over to France from Spain. When he had come to Francis's house, the Frenchmen opened the door, blue eyes lighting up mischievously. "_Hon hon hon_, and what brings you here, _mon petit_?" he asked, stepping aside for Feliciano to enter.

"Hello, big brother!" the Italian greeted, walking into the house. "I'm here to ask you a question."

France led his guest to the parlor before breaking out a bottle of wine. Veneziano took it readily, and the two drank first before turning back to the business at hand. "Question?" Francis raised a manicured eyebrow. "And what sort of question do you have for me?"

"Well, I went to see big brother Spain today," Feliciano explained, "and he gave me an answer that I'm just not sure is right."

This seemed to grab the usually aloof Frenchman's attention, and he smiled amiably. "Ah, but of course! You have done right coming to _me _for all the answers," he bragged. "Now, what is your question, _mon petit_? Big brother France will help you."

Beaming, Veneziano was practically jumping up and down in his seat he was so excited to learn the truth. "_Gratzi, _big brother!" Feliciano exclaimed. "I was wondering if you could tell me where babies come from."

For once, the long haired nation looked absolutely floored at the question, pink actually infiltrating his guard to rest lightly on his cheeks. "Pardon?" he asked.

"Where do babies come from," Feliciano repeated. "Spain said they came from tomato plants, but I'm not too sure about that because Lovi and I plant tomatoes all the time and have never found a baby. Is it because we're not a couple?"

For once, France seemed slightly uncomfortable, as though he didn't really want to answer the question. But after taking another gulp of wine, the blonde chuckled a bit uneasily. "Well, that's just ridiculous. Everyone knows that babies come from the storks."

"Storks?" Veneziano was really confused now.

"_Oui_, the stork always delivers a baby to a couple after they love each other enough," he smiled at the younger nation, hoping to God that the other would accept that answer.

"But…how do the storks know to give a couple a baby?"

"Why, God tells them where to go and who to give them to, of course!" Francis grinned.

Twisting his lips thoughtfully, Feliciano frowned. "But that doesn't sound like a lot of work. How much do the couples have to love each other before God tells the storks to deliver the babies?"

Even though he wasn't the smartest nation around, Veneziano knew that he had overstayed his welcome when France suddenly turned on his most charming smile that quickly turned sinister. "Would you like me to show you?"

Laughing nervously, Feliciano stood up quickly. "N-no, that's okay, big brother. Thanks! I, ugh, gotta go now. Bye!"

All but running out of France's house, the little Italian was left more confused than before. Big brother France said that babies came from storks at God's command while big brother Spain said they came from tomato plants. Which one was right? They couldn't both be right, could they? But neither answer sounded like it took a whole lot of work, and from what he had heard from the couple the other day, the mother made it sound like it took _a lot _of effort.

For the first time in his life, Veneziano was so deep in thought that he found he had wandered into Switzerland without really realizing it. He was about to hightail it out of there, lest Vash come after him again, when the young nation was suddenly struck with an idea. Maybe he could ask Switzerland where babies come from! Surely his plain-speaking neighbor would be able to tell him who was right, France or Spain. With this new plan set, the Italian bounced towards the blonde's house.

He never made it to the front door before Vash came out with his rifle slung over his shoulder. "What do you want?" the alpine nation snapped. Liechtenstein could be seen peeking out of the door from behind her brother.

"Hello Switzerland! Hello Liechtenstein!" Feliciano called cheerfully, rushing towards the house, waving.

"_Guten Tag, _Veneziano!" Liechtenstein called, waving shyly.

"What do you want?" Switzerland asked again, this time a little less hostile.

Running up to the two, Veneziano stopped at the porch. Liechtenstein offered the other nation to come into the house, so Switzerland was forced to accept the Italian's company. While Lilie went to get refreshments, Feliciano sat at the table with Vash. The two men sat in a sort of awkward silence before the young girl came back with drinks.

Switzerland cleared his throat before taking a sip of water. "Now," he said, folding his hands on the table top in a business-like manner that seemed totally off because they were at the dinner table. "What can I do for you, Veneziano?"

Happy to be in the company of a cute girl like Liechtenstein, Italy put on his best face. "Well, you see, I was visiting with big brothers France and Spain to ask them a question, but they gave me really different answers and I was hoping you could tell me the right one."

The alpine nation looked surprised that someone, Italy of all people, would come to him for answers, but he did also appear a little honored. A slight blush crossed the blonde's face. "O-oh. All right. What's the question then?"

Liechtenstein looked at her brother proudly, fighting the urge to take his hand, but she managed. Smiling over at Veneziano, the siblings waited for the Italian to continue.

Merrily, Feliciano nodded, deciding that he had probably done the right thing coming here. "Where do babies come from?"

Switzerland's whole world suddenly stopped turning, and he stared at the man across from him, horrified. "Why do you want to know that?" he shrieked, face flushed with embarrassment.

"I-I just heard a couple talk about all the work it took to get a baby, s-so I just wondered," the Italian stammered, a bit afraid at the trigger-happy Swiss.

"I don't think—" Vash started before his sister chimed in.

"Yes, big brother. I've always wondered that too," Lilie admitted. "Where do babies come from?"

Embarrassed, a bit irritated at being thrown such an awkward question, while suddenly feeling pressured under the expectant gazes of not only the Italian, but his sister as well, Vash knew he could do nothing but answer. "The birds and the bees," he blurted out.

"_Ve~_?" the Italian frowned slightly.

"Y-you know, the birds and the bees," Switzerland pressed forward, feeling like his face was about to catch fire it was so hot.

"What do birds or bees have to do with babies?" Lilie asked.

"You know the whole…pollinating of the flowers and…stuff…but people have to be married for this to even work!" Vash suddenly exclaimed. "I-I think that's enough for you two to know right now. Now, I think it's time for you to go, Veneziano."

Standing up, the Italian found his way out of the house as Switzerland literally pushed him. "W-well, thank you…I guess," Feliciano stuttered.

"Yeah. No problem. Bye."

And with that, Feliciano found himself walking from Switzerland. He was still even more confused, but he tried his best to think through all the information he'd been given today. Well, maybe Spain and France weren't too far off. With adding in the birds and the bees, that sort of made a connection. So…along with Switzerland's bees added to France's stork, they must be able to pollinate Spain's tomato plants that would form a baby at God's bidding. Right? Is that what they all meant?

Baby making sure sounded complicated with storks and bees and tomatoes. At least in all of these instances it sounded like the couple really had to love each other. Maybe that was a test, the couple _really _had to love each other, because if they didn't, this whole process of trying to get a baby from the bees and storks and tomatoes might just be frustrating enough to make them go crazy! It was enough to give the Italian a headache.

But just as Feliciano was about to head home, he suddenly had another brilliant idea. "_Ve~_ I know! I'll go ask Germany and see if he can explain it all any better!"

So with that, the happy Italian bounced to Germany's house.

**oOoOoOo**

Germany sat in his office at home, looking through several trade agreements while sipping a beer, when his brother came in. Gilbert was drinking his own beer as he strolled in, and he sat down in one of the chairs across from the desk. The two sat in silence for a moment, Ludwig trying to continue working, while the albino simply watched. Eventually having his brother just sit there watching him started to annoy the blonde and he was forced to look up, sliding his glasses off as he did so. "Can I help you?"

The Prussian took another swig of beer before licking his lips, looking completely calm and disinterested with life in general. "Veneziano's at the door," he said offhandedly.

The blonde frowned. "Then why didn't you let him in?"

The albino shrugged. "I didn't know if you wanted him in the house since you were so busy."

The younger brother paused a moment, thinking. "_Ja_, you better let him in. He might get into the flowerbed and ruin it or something otherwise."

"Okay," Gilbert nodded, standing up. "Oh, hey, I'm going out later with the guys. Did you wanna come?" Germany made a face. "I think Antonio's bringing along that Italian brat, so it wouldn't just be me, him, and Francis."

Again, Ludwig scowled. "I'll pass. I don't really want to drink with a pervert and Romano. I can barely tolerate those two, but it's harder to do with both of them near me at the same time."

The older man nodded once, still looking oddly passive. "Okay. See ya."

A few moments later, when Ludwig heard the door open, he knew Gilbert had gone, but it wasn't a minute later that the Prussian's presence was filled with an Italian's. "_Ve_~ Hello, Germany!"

"_Guten Tag_, Veneziano," Ludwig inclined his head. "What can I do for you today? And please," he held up a hand, "don't tell me you need me to clean your gutters again, because I'm _not _your personal handyman."

The bubbly Italian sat across from his friend easily, smiling brightly in his very Feliciano way. "Oh, no. It's nothing like that! I just had a question to ask you."

Intrigued, Ludwig found himself sitting up a bit straighter. Veneziano rarely came around seeking information in person. If it was something stupid, the small man would have probably called instead of coming here himself, so the blonde had to assume it was fairly important.

"Really? And what is that?" Germany asked, folding his hands across his desk. Unlike Switzerland, Germany actually looked the part of a serious businessman.

"Where do babies come from?" The question took the German off guard, but before he could hope to answer, Feliciano went on. "Big brother Spain said that they came from tomato plants, while big brother France said the stork brought them. But when I asked Switzerland, he said something about bees pollinating plants or something with birds." Germany blinked. "So, which is it? Where do babies really come from?"

Now, usually Ludwig got terribly embarrassed over talking about personal things such as baby making, but unlike any of the other nations that day, he did not look horrified, nor did he even blush. Instead, the large nation sat a moment, looking at his friend, before he stood up and walked over to his bookshelf. When he selected the text he sought, he flipped through the pages while walking back to his chair. Once he found what he was looking for, he set down the book on the desk before spinning it around to face the Italian.

"This," he said in his lecture-like voice, pointing to the picture, "is the vagina."

Feliciano's eyes snapped open, going as wide as a baby Blue Whale.

**oOoOoOo**

That night, Gilbert sat at a table with Antonio, Francis, and Lovino drinking and having a pretty good time. He sort of wished West had come along, if not to keep him entertained as France would no doubt start a spat or Romano would throw funny abuses at the young blonde, but sadly, Ludwig had decided to be all grownup and stay at home and work. It was unawesome, really.

The night was going well enough, if not a bit slow, when suddenly Feliciano came into the bar, white as a ghost and looking shell-shocked. When the boy entered, Romano, Spain, and France all stood up and rushed over to the sickly appearing Italian.

"Feliciano! What's wrong?" Antonio exclaimed, helping Romano lead his brother to the table where Gilbert had remained sitting. Why should he have to get up anyway?

The normally chatty nation sat still, looking a bit green. "I…I…It was horrible!" he whispered in dismay. "H-how is something that big supposed to just come out of something _so _small?"

Everyone at the table frowned, not really understanding what Veneziano was talking about. "_Fratello_, what the hell are you talking about?" Romano snapped, trying to hide his concern with irritation.

When the younger nation peered up at them all, his caramel eyes looked like that of a man that had just witnessed the murder of his family, only worse. "Did you know that it can even take _days _for them to come out?" he exclaimed. "Those poor women!"

Suddenly, France, Spain, and Romano seemed to realize what the other Italian was talking about, and all three paled. Gilbert scowled, not liking being left out of anything. "What the hell is he going on about?" he asked, taking another drink of beer.

"W-who told you that, _hermano_?" Spain asked gently.

"W-well," Feliciano started to shake. "I-I asked Romano first, but he told me to go ask big brother Spain, and after I asked big brother Spain, I asked big brother France, and after him, I ran into Switzerland and asked him, but then Switzerland kicked me out, so then I went and asked…I asked Germany."

"WHAT?" Romano exploded. "You asked the potato bastard about where babies come from?"

Gilbert, who had still been drinking, spit out his beer in a rather dramatic fashion, all the while choking. He coughed and sputtered for a few moments before staring at the little Italian incredulously. "You asked _West _about _that_?"

"_Mon ami_, everyone knows that Germans aren't...so tactful when it comes to matters of romance and the like," France shook his head, amazement and horror written clearly on his features.

"What did he say?" the Prussian asked, grinning wickedly. When West wanted to be, he could be awesomely graphic, and it seemed that he had been in his explanation to Italy.

"I-I can't!" Felicino cried, still shaking, but after a pause he spoke again. "H-he made me watch a movie after explaining it on childbirth."

Everyone at the table grimaced, before Gilbert threw back his head and laughed hysterically. He was going to have to ask Ludwig about his lesson later, but right now he was silently thanking his little brother for making his evening just a little more interesting. "Awesome," the albino wiped the tears from his eyes. "So do you understand now, Veneziano? Or do you want me to pick up where West left off?"

"NO!" Feliciano screamed, before he stood up and ran away, all the while, Gilbert laughed.

Sighing, Romano cursed under his breath before hurrying off to find his northern half. France and Spain still looked a little pale, knowing how blunt and explicit Germans could be at times, but sat down to take good long drawls of their drinks. The Trio didn't say anything for a long moment before Gilbert started chuckling again. "I wonder if he'll ever ask that question again."

France and Spain looked at their cynical friend solemnly before shaking their heads in the negative. Yes, good ol' West really could step up and save the day! Now, the only mystery remaining for the albino was which movie had his brother used to sufficiently scar Feliciano for life?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>And the moral of the story? If you ask questions, be prepared for _any _and _all _answers…I don't know what the heck this is. I just was laying in bed last night and thought of this. Weird, I know. But at least Feliciano knows better now, right? …you should feel very sorry for him right now, Germany spared no details. XD

I figured Germany would be the one to actually to tell Veneziano straight up without tip toeing around facts because one; he's a no-nonsense sort of guy, and two, I believe that should he look at something from a scientific standpoint, he wouldn't get embarrassed or shy. There _were _many great German scientist, after all, I think Ludwig would act a little like that sometimes too. ^^

Take this as you will. Please drop me a review if you could! I'd be most beholdin' to ya! Thanks~


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